


I'm Tripping Over Your Every Single Move

by lookingfortherainbow



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, No Smut, Pining, Swimmer Harry, lifeguard louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-05-13 06:51:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19246033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingfortherainbow/pseuds/lookingfortherainbow
Summary: “I could pretend to drown,” Harry gasped, looking like he was in awe of his own genius. “Oh my god, what a story to tell our kids. He’d be my reason for almost dying, my reason for staying alive. By the way, have you been working out more lately?”Liam stared in utter disbelief at his friend’s wild imagination, vaguely noting that Harry was now petting at his bicep in a daze, no longer holding it in a death grip. Sometimes, he wondered why Harry wasn’t at least minoring in theatre.“Harry, babe. You’re here on a scholarship. For swimming. You’ve literally won multiple events in this very pool. Because you’re so good at swimming. You come here almost everyday to train, which I don’t think has escaped any of the lifeguards who work here. I don’t think that’s as good a plan as you think it is,” Liam said, eyebrows turned up with concern.Or, Harry is the local swimming star athlete and Louis is the lifeguard that turns Harry into a fish out of water.





	I'm Tripping Over Your Every Single Move

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glitteredcurls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredcurls/gifts).



> This is my first time participating in anything like this, and I had a lot of fun writing it out. I hope I did the prompt justice! Also, I hope it's okay that it isn't set in summer? The prompt mentioned mid-terms, and I didn't even think about the fact I set it far before summer until after submitting it, and it was past the deadline. So, I really hope that's okay and doesn't bother anyone too much!
> 
> This is unbetaed because I forgot to sign up for one (sorry! I'm terrible, I know :/), so all mistakes are mine. Hopefully, there aren't a lot.
> 
> I want to thank the wonderful people who organized this exchange. Thank you for being patient with my endless questions, and general dumbass-ery and for taking the time to make this exchange a fun experience. 
> 
> Fic title is from the song The English Summer by The Wombats.

Swimming was what Harry knew how to do best. The feeling of his body slicing through the water, whatever noise that polluted his university’s pool muffled almost completely when he was immersed in the blue of it, his mind blocking out everything but how to work his muscles so he could slide like an arrow through the otherwise still water, the beat of his heart quickening as he tried to beat himself at his best time--these were things that Harry was familiar with. 

What he wasn’t familiar with or knew how to do well was keeping his composure when a certain lifeguard was on duty. That is why he found himself swallowing water straight after emerging from the depths of the swimming lane. A gasp at the sight of red trunks pulled tight over the aforementioned lifeguard’s plump, firm arse as he bent over at the bottom of his lifeguard chair only a few yards away, digging in some bag, sucked cupfuls of water into Harry’s mouth. Promptly, he began sputtering and coughing, eyes watering from the feeling of liquid going down his throat the wrong way, the taste of chlorine bitter in his mouth. 

“Mate, what happened? Y’alright?” He heard his friend Liam say, could feel a strong warm hand on his shoulder trying to comfort him. 

Harry raised his hand as a way to signal he was fine, the gesture sending quite the opposite message as to what was true as he was still wheezing for air and spitting. 

Apparently, he was not familiar or even remotely good at breathing, either, thanks to The Lifeguard.  

After a couple minutes his coughing subsided, and he pulled his swimming cap off, effectively making him look like a disgruntled parrot, short hair sticking up in a style similar to a mohawk. 

“What was that about? I was timing you, and suddenly you’re swallowing loads of water like you’ve never swam a day in your life.”

Harry glared at Liam, because he couldn’t have looked  _ that _ helpless. He had dozens of swimming trophies and medals hung up in his dorm room and stored at home to prove it. Not to mention, he had been photographed for the newspaper, making front page news multiple times. And he intended to make the cover again at his swim meet that was in a week, just so he could show his mum that he was working hard while at school. Being the local star athlete also was a lot of pressure, and he didn’t want to let anyone rooting for him down. 

It was an early Saturday morning, and Harry was disappointed that his training for the day had started out with him losing focus already. Liam was always happy to help time him, but now he wished the lad had gone for his usual morning run, embarrassed at having made a fool of himself because of The Lifeguard.  _ Again. _

Already this week alone Harry had tripped on his own feet and landed hard on the cement ground surrounding the indoor pool, scraping his knees and hands up so bad they bled. It wasn’t his fault that he’d walked into the pool right at the moment when The Lifeguard was getting out of the water, biceps flexing as he pulled himself up, muscles gleaming with the shine of water. He had been retrieving his lifeguard fanny pack that his fellow co-worker, a loudly cackling blonde, had thrown into the middle lane of the pool. The thin wet fabric of his trunks clung to his thick thighs, accentuating the delicious curve of muscle. Water had streamed in trails down the side of his face, the graceful column of his neck, the sharp jut of his collarbones, his torso, and down his hairy calves. Thankfully, no one else had been in the pool at the time to witness his fall, except for Liam, who walked in right before Harry tripped. Yesterday, he’d been completely focused--that is, until The Lifeguard had emerged from behind a door labeled ‘Employees Only’, and Harry had missed when Liam had started his timer, his brain shutting off and his dick turning on at the sight of the man’s tanned, bare skin and smooth walk that even models would be jealous of.

Harry heaved a sigh, mostly for dramatic purposes, but also because he really needed the oxygen after choking so hard. “Look behind you.”

As Liam turned to look, Harry hoisted himself up from the lane he was still standing in, water dripping all over, creating a puddle around him immediately. Liam used to tell him not to get him wet but he’d gotten used to it. 

“Oh,  _ H,”  _ Liam cooed, sympathy in his tone as he caught sight of Louis, who was now perched atop his tall chair, looking bored as ever. 

Harry hadn’t been expecting that at all, thought his best friend would tease him as that had been the usual reaction up until now. He frowned at his friend as he stood up from where he’d been crouching. 

“You’ve got to do something about it. You’ve been pining over him for  _ months,” _ Liam carried on, warm brown eyes worried. 

“What am I supposed to  _ do, _ Li? Walk over and just say, ‘hey, your arse in those swim trunks is distracting me from my training, so d’you want to go on a date with me so I can stop wondering what it’d feel like in my hands and get my fill of staring at you before I swim’.”

Liam stared at him, unamused. “You could, but you’d probably get a restraining order, and maybe a slap on the cheek, instead of a date.”

“He could slap my cheeks anytime,” Harry sighed, dreamily, head tilting in admiration as he watched Louis absent-mindedly scratch at the barely-there scruff outlining his sharp jaw, the man’s sharp gaze surveying the swimming lanes where a few other people were training. 

He was vaguely aware of the fact that Liam was groaning next to him, the lad rubbing at his forehead with the pads of his fingers. 

“For your competition’s sake, and for the good of my sanity,  _ please _ ask him out. You have nothing to lose, Harry,” Liam urged.

Climbing onto the starting block and straightening his speedo back in place over his bum before crouching into position again, Harry grabbed at Liam’s, admittedly very large, bicep. Liam startled as he turned to an inspired Harry. 

“I could pretend to drown,” Harry gasped, looking like he was in awe of his own genius. “Oh my god, what a story to tell our kids. He’d be my reason for almost dying, my reason for staying alive. By the way, have you been working out more lately?”

Liam stared in utter disbelief at his friend’s wild imagination, vaguely noting that Harry was now petting at his bicep in a daze, no longer holding it in a death grip. Sometimes, he wondered why Harry wasn’t at least minoring in theatre. 

“Harry, babe. You’re here on a scholarship.  _ For _ swimming. You’ve literally won multiple events in this very pool. Because you’re so  _ good at _ swimming. You come here almost everyday to train, which I don’t think has escaped any of the lifeguards who work here. I don’t think that’s as good a plan as you think it is,” Liam said, eyebrows turned up with concern. “Also, yeah, I’ve been at the gym more lately, thanks for noticing,” he tacked on, eyes scrunching with a smile. 

“Yeah, they’re really nice,” Harry murmured, squeezing the muscle one last time before downright slumping into a defeated blob of relaxed, lean muscles and soft love handles right atop the starting block, lip jutting out into the most pitiful pout Liam had ever seen him sport. “Well, it was an idea, at least. Maybe I’ll have more confidence after my event next week,” Harry mumbled, adding on quietly, “if I win.”

“You’re definitely going to win. But I don’t think you need to to get him to date you, babe,” Liam soothed, warm hand rubbing up and down Harry’s slouched back. 

“He doesn’t even notice me though. What do I have going for me?” Harry complained, throwing his hands up. 

“Uh, he does too notice you. In fact, he was staring at your arse before you sat down on it just now.”

Whipping his head around, Harry gazed up hopefully, only to be met with the sight of The Lifeguard examining his fingernails, extending his fingers out, twisting his wrist, and then curling them in towards his palm, small smirk on his face for whatever reason. 

Harry wanted to suck on his fingers, wanted to be on the receiving end of that smirk, be the reason for it. Then he remembered he was in his speedos and abruptly stopped that train of thought before he got kicked out of his own uni pool for indecent exposure. 

“You’re imagining things,” Harry muttered, defeated. 

“I’m not. I’m also not imagining that your butterfly strokes need improvement. So, get off your arse, get your mind off of Mr. Lifeguard up there, and get your mind focused on what we came here to do!” Liam directed, clapping his hands together before assuming a wide stance next to the standing block, finger ready to start the timer that hung around his neck, face determined, lips quirking up at the corners to soften the expression.

“Damn. If you and Zayn weren’t a couple already, I’d propose a friends with benefits arrangement. You’re sexy when you’re bossy,” Harry joked, flinging out his limbs, and crouching into the proper position to dive into the water. 

“So I’ve been told,” Liam laughed. 

Harry chuckled, placed his goggles over his eyes and resisted the urge to look behind him to check if it was just his own imagination that made him feel like a pair of watchful eyes were burning into his back. 

With Liam’s signal, and a powerful shove off from the block, he was once again submerged in water, doing what he knew how to do best.

  
  


\--

  
  


On Tuesday, Harry found himself furiously tapping a pencil against his open notebook, free hand continuously fisting his curls in frustration to the point where they had almost straightened out completely. His table was filled with notes and books, computer open, though now he’d forgotten why he was even using it in the first place. His mind felt like mush, and despite the hours of studying he’d been doing he didn’t feel any closer to being prepared for his upcoming midterms. The fact that he felt he was missing out on precious training time with each passing hour he spent in the library didn’t help him either, making him lose concentration on the information he was supposed to be retaining for one of his tests.

Feeling burnt out from his daily routine of waking up early to train alone, attend classes, study, and then train with his swim team and coach some more, he looked up at the clock with blurred vision. The seconds hand was ticking away, the sound deafening in the otherwise quiet library. Harry felt dizzy with sentences he’d read from various books and times from his swims, the numbers and letters getting mixed up in one another, the dates of his competition and his midterms joining the nauseating dance that was swirling in his brain. 

There was no way he’d be able to be prepared for everything that was coming up. Not to mention, he felt that he’d been neglecting his duties as a friend, brother, and son. He hadn’t talked to Gemma or his mum in weeks, and he hadn’t taken Liam or Zayn up on their offers to hang out or party lately. 

Overwhelmed, his gut churned with panic and guilt, and he could feel the overpowering sense of doom begin to fill his lungs, not leaving any room for air. 

“Oh, god,” he gasped, shaking hand dropping his pencil. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.” 

The volume of his voice was low but since there was only one other student studying at a nearby table, it sounded more like he was shouting the words. 

_ Pull it together,  _ Harry thought to himself, squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught of tears. 

After taking another longer glance at the lad sat a few tables away, horror and confusion joined the chaotic mess of emotions he was overrun with. 

Because sat a few yards away was none other than a med student, still in his scrubs, who looked far too much like The Lifeguard. If Harry was panicked at the feeling he might pass out before, he now welcomed it. The absolute last thing he needed right now was The Lifeguard, (med student?), witnessing him losing it during a study session, and if it  _ did _ happen, which he felt was a very big possibility, he didn’t want to be conscious for it. 

Clearly, Harry’s tear ducts didn’t care about preserving his ego, because with a sob that came out as a strange hiccup, he felt a small trail of liquid begin its journey down his cheek. Heaving shallow breaths, he scrambled to get his things in his bag, stuffing notes in folders they didn’t belong, slamming his computer shut with such force he would’ve cringed at himself had he not been in the middle of an actual breakdown. 

“Mate, you’ve got to calm down.”

Jumping in his seat at the sound of a familiar yorkshire accent, Harry turned his head to the left, not sure if his heart was speeding up more because he was staring straight into the blue eyes of the man he’d been crushing on for months, or because said man’s voice was extremely soothing, nothing like the loud, commanding tone that Harry was used to hearing at the pool, and the man was using it on  _ him. _

“Relax your muscles, yeah? Slow your breathing. Inhale through your nose for four counts, hold it for seven, exhale through your mouth for eight,” The Lifeguard-Med Student calmly instructed before demonstrating for Harry, gesturing with his hand as he inhaled, encouraging him to join. 

Instead of listening to the man’s wise words, Harry’s gaze caught on the student identification card that dangled from a clip latched onto the breast pocket of his scrubs.  _ Louis Tomlinson, _ it read.

“Oh, god,” Harry wheezed eloquently, entirely too overwhelmed to say or do anything else that required more brainpower. . .or. . .mental stability. 

Louis’ face was screwed up in concern, and Harry was now panicking over the fact that he was so close to him that Harry could smell him, could see the tiny group of freckles on his one cheek, could see the beginnings of laugh lines etched into the skin near his eyes. Which meant that  _ Louis _ could see the hot flush that painted  _ Harry’s _ cheeks red, could see the single tear that was hanging onto his jaw for dear life, could see the bitten raw skin on his lips. 

It was the closest they had ever been to each other, and, just as luck would have it, Harry looked like a wreck.

Breathing still erratic, Harry grabbed the remaining books on the table, pulled his shoulder bag strap over his head and bolted for the door before Louis got a chance to say anything more.

The late March night air was a blessing to Harry’s lungs, and he slumped onto a bench to do the exact breathing pattern Louis had told him to. After a few minutes, the feeling of nausea and dread subsided. His mortification was just as strong, though, as the fact he’d just made the biggest fool of himself in front of someone he wanted to make the best first impression on still remained. 

For the first time ever, as he headed towards his dorm room, Harry hoped that tomorrow when he went to train at the pool, Louis wouldn’t be there.

  
  


\--

  
  


Not only did Louis arrive to the pool after Harry was done with training with his teammates in the evening, he was also  _ everywhere else _ that day _.  _

The day had started out bad, Harry waking up late as he forgot to set his alarm the night before. Rushing to get to his morning class, he had sprinted through the narrow halls of his university, bumping into people and repeating apologies profusely the whole way. Once he was nearer to his class, he slowed down, opting to speed-walk, instead. Just as luck would have it though, the door to the men’s restroom, placed right in front of the door to Harry’s class, swung open, blocking his beeline to his class. 

Of course, it was none other than Louis who emerged, only to be slammed into by a skittering Harry. Mentally, Harry cursed his boots for having absolutely zero traction and sending him flailing straight into Louis’ chest. For the second time since being in close proximity with Louis, Harry was a flushed and breathless mess, and Louis was gloriously put together, curved eyebrows raised and arms firm as he held Harry from falling like he’d been expecting the abrupt collision. 

“Woah, there!” Louis let out a throaty chuckle, somehow soft with rasp and breath. “Where’s the fire?” 

Harry’s body, that had been in constant erratic motion since he got up that morning, froze in place as Louis steadied him. His firm hands straightened the lopsided neck of Harry’s green sweater, and he smiled at him as he smoothed the material over Harry’s shoulders as if he was brushing dirt off. 

“Good lad, there you are. Not as good at walking as you are at swimming, huh?” 

Harry would’ve preened at the affection in Louis’ tone and the indication that Louis was, at the least, aware of his skills in the water, had he not been thinking how much he really did feel like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he tried to formulate words. 

“Oh, my god,” was what came out in a squeak before he fumbled his way out of Louis’ presence, successfully banging into his classroom door and managing to drop one of his books in the doorway. After he picked it up, his sweater got caught on the door handle, and there was a struggle before he freed himself, only to realize the class had already started, and the professor and all his classmates were staring at him in dead silence. 

Harry wanted to  _ die.  _

The wish for a sweet escape from the horror show his life had become only intensified as the day dragged on. Because no matter where he went, Louis seemed to be just around the corner. 

In the afternoon, he and Liam were standing in line waiting for their drinks in the cafe that was on campus.  

“Oh, for god’s sake, Niall!” came the piercing sound of Louis’ voice above the din of coffee makers and baristas banging around behind the counter. 

Harry whipped around, eyes frantically searching the interior of the building, spine straightening as his heart sped up. 

“Hide me!” he hissed to Liam, using him as a body-shield as he stepped in front of him, peeking over his shoulder, eyes still glued to Louis.

Niall, who Harry recognized as the blonde lifeguard that frequently worked with Louis, was frantically trying to clean up the tea he’d just spilled all over the table they were seated at. Offering no help to Niall’s predicament, Louis had his one arm raised, looking at his tea-soaked sleeve in disgust, liquid dripping from the hem onto the puddle that Niall was doing a poor job of mopping up with napkins.  

“What’re you doing?” Liam asked, craning his neck around to try to pinpoint where Harry was looking.

His body turned with his head, and Harry gripped his shoulders, forcing him to stay facing him. 

“No, don’t look! It’s the lifeguard, Louis, who I embarrassed myself in front of yesterday. I ran into him today,  _ literally, _ and I’d rather him not see me right now,” Harry explained, ducking down slightly before he peeked over Liam’s shoulder again, body fighting between wanting to stay hidden and wanting to keep staring at Louis. 

“Oh, fuck, he’s coming over here!” Harry panicked, ducking and trying to fold himself into an invisible form against Liam’s muscled frame. Maybe, if he shut his eyes tight enough he would cease to exist. 

“Harry, you’re being ridiculous--”

“Sorry, lads, emergency clean-up needed,” Louis, who had made his way over (extremely fucking quickly) said, budging his way between them and the man waiting in front of them to reach the stand that held napkins. 

Harry was trying to shift Liam so as not to be exposed to Louis’ gaze, but his friend wasn’t cooperating, pushing back against Harry’s awkward nudges and mouthing encouragements to Harry as he tried to push him over to Louis. So far, Louis hadn’t looked at them, too busy fussing over his drenched sleeve. That is, until the barista called both their names, placing their steaming drinks on the pick-up counter. Louis’ frustrated sleeve-cleaning came to an abrupt halt, and his blue eyes zeroed in on Harry, pointing a finger at him. 

_ “Harry,”  _ he drawled, his lips, that before were set in a thin line of irritation, twitched up, the beginnings of a smirk forming.  

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god,” Harry whispered as he released his grip on Liam’s jacket, hurrying forward to grab both drinks that were waiting and fleeing the cafe with Liam following closely behind before he could make even more of a fool of himself in front of Louis.

And, of course, that evening Louis had arrived after the team practice, seemingly forgetting something as he disappeared behind the  _ ‘Employees Only’ _ door and emerged minutes later with a book, only to leave. Harry had avoided being seen by ducking underwater. 

But on his late night walk that he sometimes took when he needed to unwind, there was no water to dive under when he spotted Louis walking leisurely down the path, coming towards him. He wasn’t proud of the awkward, lurching half-walk, half-jog he broke into just to get past Louis quicker, steadfastly looking at the ground and pulling the hood of his jacket closer around his head.

Despite his anxiety about Louis being at the pool, Harry forced himself to train the next morning, wanting to be as prepared as possible for his competition that was in two days. He was relieved, and a bit disappointed, that Louis wasn’t there. It was all the better though, he guessed, since he was able to get through his routine training without distractions. 

Afterwards, when he was toweling off by the poolside, Liam, Zayn, and Mitch, a fellow Sociology student that he’d become good friends with, were chatting with him about how he felt about the competition before they had to go to their morning classes. 

Unfortunately, for Harry’s ego, the conversation took a different turn, Liam choosing to fill the others in on what happened at the cafe the other day with Louis.

“So, he recognized you and looked happy to see you, but you still left?” Mitch asked, less familiar with Harry’s skittish behavior around Louis.

He simply groaned in response, shaking out his dripping wet hair like a dog, taking satisfaction in the protests the others voiced as water droplets flew. 

“He didn’t just leave. He  _ booked _ it out of there,” Liam expounded. “I’ve been trying to get him to talk to Louis for  _ ages.” _

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Zayn interjected.

Harry looked up to see Louis striding over, the sound of the heavy door to the pool slamming shut echoing off the walls and Harry’s heart. 

This time, Harry had nowhere to escape to. His friends were certainly no help. Zayn nudged his elbow, speaking words of encouragement in Harry’s ear that he couldn’t hear. It seemed his body shut down in the panic it went into as he watched Louis come closer and closer in horror. He was in casual clothes, clearly not coming for a shift, but Harry’s neck instead. He would certainly make fun of him, would probably question his strange behavior right in front of his friends, and they would all laugh together at his expense. 

“Harry! I was hoping you’d be here today!” Louis said, smile cheery as he came to a stop in front of him. 

“Oh, my god,” Harry said, barely audible. 

“It’s Louis, actually. Disappointing that I’m not God, I know,” Louis sighed, placing the palm of his hand over his chest before gracefully swooping it down as he continued to say, “But since I want to take you out on a date, I figured I should set the record straight about my name, ” Louis teased, saving the moment from crashing and burning into a pile of awkward word debris at Harry’s feet. 

He watched how Louis’ eyes scrunched with his smile, the lines around the corners of them deepening with the expression. He thought it could very well be a possibility that he  _ was _ a god. Maybe god of the sun or god of beauty. Either way, Harry wouldn’t mind getting on his knees to worship him religiously.

He didn’t realize he was fish-mouthing once again in front of Louis until one of his friends nudged him again. He was too busy being shocked that the most alluring man he’d been pining over for far too long was asking him out, not humiliating him, to answer eloquently.  

“Well, since we’re setting the record straight, you should know that  _ I _ am not,” Harry blurted, mind coming up with a joke so terrible, even  _ he _ wanted to slap his forehead, which he saw Liam doing out of the corner of his eye. “Umm,” he panicked, eyes flitting around as he tried to say something that wouldn’t make Louis want to let him drown if he ever  _ did _ forget how to swim. “And I would love to go on a date with you,” he decided on, rubbing his bare feet together and biting his lip.

His answer wasn’t clever or interesting, but Louis’ eyes brightened and the corners of his mouth twitched up even more. Harry had been getting cold, standing in his wet speedo, droplets of water still running down his body, hair damp, but seeing the look on Louis’ face ignited a warmth inside of his chest that spread through his whole body to the tips of his fingers and toes.

  
  


\--

  
  


The date that Louis took Harry on was just what he needed.

Once they had exchanged phone numbers, Louis told Harry to be ready the next day at six o’clock, to dress casual, and that they’d be going someplace off-campus. He had given no further detail on what they’d be doing. So, Harry’s nerves were high when he went to the train station to meet up with him so they could take the train to their destination.

The last thing he’d expected was Louis to take him to a cupcake shoppe. The shoppe was doing a special event that day that allowed their customers to decorate their own cupcakes. Tables were lined up in such a way that they could sit down and have all the edible ingredients at their disposal. 

The train ride to the shoppe was relatively quiet, with Harry trying desperately not to make a fool of himself since he’d done all of that before he’d even properly talked to Louis. Louis was clearly comfortable around him though, enough that he steadied Harry several times on the packed train when he got jerked to the side too fast, stopping him from falling into the stranger standing next to them. The fifth time it happened, Louis kept his hand around his waist, and Harry hid his blush by ducking his head into the rumpled shoulder of the hoodie he was wearing, thankful for the cold March weather London was giving them. 

Louis seemed to notice it anyway and gave him an affectionate little squeeze. 

Now, though, he was making a mess of his cupcake, and the hesitation Harry felt melted away with each wonky, terrible decision Louis made with his decorating. The frosting was a disaster of multiple different colored blobs on the surface of the cupcake, some of it smushed onto the side as Louis had gotten distracted by watching Harry frost his own cupcake. Harry hadn’t even made it past the frosting and adding a little bit of edible glitter onto it, because once Louis saw what he was doing he’d picked up his own glitter bottle and, with a theatrical flourish, dumped far too much on. This sent Harry into a fit of giggles. 

“Shit!” Louis’ eyes were wide with horror. 

“I don’t think you put enough on,” Harry managed to get out through his laughter, dumping his green glitter onto Louis’ blue. 

Offering Harry a cheeky smile, Louis said, “You’re right. You can never have too much glitter.”

He proceeded to dump even more on.

The rest of their time together was spent talking about their classes, Harry learning that Louis was majoring in sports medicine, three years into his schooling, where Harry was only in his second year. 

“So, you want to be a lawyer, then?” Louis asked after Harry told him his major was in Law and minor was in Sociology.

“That’s the plan,” Harry said, adding little gold and blue beads onto his cupcake.  

Louis sighed, exaggeratedly, adding two fondant eyes and a frown onto his cupcake. “What a shame. Here I thought I could secure a career as your personal sports medicine physician.”

Harry snorted at the frowny faced cupcake. “Sorry, swimming is just paying my way through uni. No plans for the Olympics in my future.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to be happy with checking you out from up top my lifeguard stand instead of up close and personal in a doctor’s office. I suppose seeing you swimming in those little speedos of yours that you always wear will make up for it,” Louis said, wistfully, licking frosting off his finger while looking at Harry pointedly.

Harry shifted in his seat, delighted that he had caught Louis’ eye previous to the disastrous encounter in the library. 

“I’d actually much prefer you see me up close and personal in your bedroom than in your doctor’s office,” Harry murmured, watching the way Louis’ throat bobbed as he swallowed the frosting.

Louis turned away, and Harry watched, rapt, as he turned the frown on his cupcake into a crooked smile that he guessed was supposed to resemble a smirk. “That can be arranged.”

Harry laughed, covering his mouth to muffle the jubilant noise. When he pulled his hand away, his smile faded, watching in confusion as Louis licked his thumb and leaned forward. His thumb slid over the corner of Harry’s mouth, and he looked on breathlessly as Louis licked the frosting he’d collected with his thumb into his mouth. 

“I take it you’re a bowl licker,” Harry grinned. 

“How presumptuous of you, Harry. And on the first date, too. Honestly!” Louis shook his head, turning the joke dirty, before lowering his voice and leaning in to murmur, “But yes, I am. And I’m bloody good at it, too.” He winked at Harry, gloating in the way Harry’s face flushed and he ducked his head to hide it. 

The contrast of their cupcakes were hilarious when finished. Louis had added just about every decorative thing on the table there was to add to his cupcake, making it almost impossible to see the fondant smirk the cupcake was wearing in the midst of it all. On the other hand, Harry’s looked prim and proper, beautifully balanced with glitter and little edible beads, even sporting a shiny red cherry on top. He thought it looked finished until Louis shaped a little dick out of his spare pink fondant and delicately placed it onto the frosting. That was when Harry knew he could never make a more perfect cupcake in his life. 

After eating their cupcakes at a separate table away from the mess of the decorating area, they began their walk to the train station, arms brushing as they kept close to share body heat, the weather outside growing colder as the sun set. They had only been out for two hours, but Louis knew that Harry needed a good rest before his meet the next day.

“So, tell me, is there anything I can do to ease your nerves about your swimming meet tomorrow?” Louis asked once they’d arrived at the station and sat down to wait for the train. His voice was soft, similar to the one he used on Harry that day in the library. 

Harry sat back and thought for a moment, appreciating how Louis never took his eyes from him, eager to hear his answer.

“Mm, no. I think this was just what I needed to unwind. I’ve been so busy with worrying about training and mid-terms. I’ve been non-stop swimming and studying. Tonight was what I needed to finally be able to relax,” he answered, truthfully. 

“That was my goal. I’m glad to hear I succeeded.”

“On second thought,” Harry added, leaning a bit closer to Louis. “Would you--would you like to come to the swim meet? It would be nice knowing I have a lifeguard watching me. You know, just in case I forget how to swim due to nerves and need mouth to mouth resuscitation.”

Louis raised his eyebrows at the husk that had seeped into Harry’s voice, cocking his head to the side as his eyes darted from Harry’s lips to his eyes and back again. “Of course I’ll come. Anything to ensure you feel relaxed at your meet. In case that does happen, though, which by the way,  _ highly _ unlikely, I think I’d quite like to kiss you now. Don’t want our first kiss to be a life or death situation.”

A giggle slipped from Harry’s mouth before Louis’ lips were on his, the playful sound melting into a soft sigh as Louis’ thin lips molded onto his own fuller ones. He tasted of the vanilla frosting and chocolate cupcake he’d eaten, and Harry placed his hand on Louis’ cheek, holding him gently but firmly. He nipped Louis’ bottom lip lightly, tugging it just so before he pulled away. It was a magnetic move and Louis followed him, causing their lips to meet once again. A soft sound escaped Louis’ lips as he licked into Harry’s pliant mouth, Harry’s thumb rubbing along the soft skin of Louis’ prominent cheekbone, feeling warm from head to toe despite the temperature dropping around them. 

The velvet sensation of Louis’ tongue sensually sliding along Harry’s own slipped away, Louis pulling back and leaving Harry feeling light-headed and airy in the best of ways. The smile Louis gave him as Harry’s hand slid off his cheek tenderly was one that he wanted to keep in his mind for safe-keeping forever. 

The next day at the competition, Louis rewarded him with a new golden smile, one that made Harry feel like he was walking on clouds as he walked to receive his gold medal after winning his meet. 

When Louis asked for them to have a picture taken and promised he’d take Harry on a fancier date after mid-terms were done, he knew, in his heart, that he was winning far more than just a swimming competition.  

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Here's a [fic post](https://andtheywerebandmates.tumblr.com/post/186704003640/im-tripping-over-your-every-single-move) if you'd like to share the story. Come find me on my[tumblr!](https://andtheywerebandmates.tumblr.com)


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